


An Alternate Route

by Ophite



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Coercion, F/M, Murder, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 04:02:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4592181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ophite/pseuds/Ophite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Alex had taken Blair for a guide before Jim had. UPN and others own the Sentinel et al. I'm just exploring what might have been. This is only partially betaed by the wonderful JAC who hardly complained at all about my horrible spelling. Any remaining errors are my own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Alternate Route

**1994**

Blair Sandburg lay on his bed lost in the journal he was reading. It was a copy of Burton's travels and he had read it so many times that the edges of the pages were worn and tattered. The bed squeaked in a steady rhythm as he bounced up and down on it. He vibrated with an excess of energy that was recognized, if not appreciated, by everyone who knew him. Long curly locks tumbled down on his shoulders, as his deep blue eyes devoured the text. By the time he noticed it, the knocking at his door had achieved an impatient volume and rapidity. "Blair, answer the door", came a familiar voice that sent him leaping for the door.

"Just a minute Alex. Coming." She was his Holy Grail. She had run across his Master's thesis and some of the articles he had published while trying to figure out what was wrong with her. From Blair's point of view nothing was. She was a Sentinel, just as Sir Richard Burton had described them in his journal. All five senses heightened, with a brain that could process all that extra information. When Alex had first approached him she had had trouble with focusing too tightly on one sense and 'zoning out' on it, but they had already made good progress in training her to broaden her focus.

He swung the door open with a bright smile, "What do you need Alex, are you having problems?" He was promptly forced back into the room as Alex pushed past him. His anxiety spiked as two men came in after her carrying a bound and struggling young man. "Alex what are you doing?"

"I need you Blair, permanently." To her goon she said, "Tie him up in a chair; I want him to watch this. Then tie our guest spread-eagle on the bed." She wandered over to where Blair was now tied up and casually commented, "You know Blair, it's a good thing you live off in this warehouse, otherwise we would have to worry about the neighbors." Then wandered off to the kitchen area and started rummaging through the silverware drawer.

"Alex! Have you gone nuts! This is insane!" screamed Blair as he struggled fruitlessly against the man who was binding him tightly to a kitchen chair.

"I told you Blair, I want to keep you. Apparently I need you to control my senses. Our young guest here will serve two purposes. First he will be an example of what will happen to you and your mother... ahh what is her name, Naomi, that's right... if you try to escape. Second, he is a very close match for you; I even matched his blood type by scent. I knew you would be so proud. After I'm done with him, everyone will assume that he is you. So no one will come looking. Mitch, gag Blair so he doesn't disturb any passersby."

"He looks a lot like you," She continued, "His name is David by the way, but his eyes aren't the right color. We can fix that though,“ Blair watched in horror as she took the spoon and gouged the young man's eyes out. It wasn’t easy David thrashed and his muffled screams could be heard even through the gag. It was almost a relief to Blair when David's screams stopped and his body went slack. His nose was the next thing to be adjusted, and then Alex just worked her way down his body until anything that could be used to identify him was mutilated beyond recognition. He was dead by the time she used a pair of pliers to pull his teeth.

During the grizzly proceedings Mitch had had to cut off Blair’s gag when he began to vomit uncontrollably. Alex coolly threw the last of the 'identifying features' into a bag and told Dave to go dump it in the harbor and pull the van around. Blair watched her approach him, frozen in horror. Looking first at Mitch she said, ”get ready to torch this place.” Then she reached down and cradled his cheeks in blood covered hands and said in a flat matter of fact voice, "Blair Sandburg is dead now. If you ever attempt to leave, or betray me, by any means, I will find you, and I will find your mother, and David there will look like the lucky one. Do you understand me?"

Blair gazed past Alex to the corpse on the bed, and whispered hoarsely, "Yes, Alex."

 

**1998**

 

His face was still as he studied the information on his computer screen. His heart didn't skip and race, his breathing remained slow and regular. No sign betrayed his rising excitement. Three long years in the service of a paranoid sociopath had eradicated most such lapses in his self- discipline. Here was an opportunity for escape if he had the courage to take the gamble. With a flick of his finger he calmly returned to the main personnel index and pulled up yet another file and skimmed it while considering James Ellison.

The guy was a cop, which had pros and cons. On the plus side it wasn’t very likely that the guy was as crazy vicious as Alex. At least nothing in his police or military records would lead a person to think that. Not by all accounts the most personable guy but then Mr. Sweetness and sunshine wouldn’t be much use against Alex. The covert ops stuff was a definite plus. On the negative side as a cop he would be bound to work inside the system, rules about how someone may be approached, jurisdictions...

And then, too, was the other problem, how to approach Ellison. He would have no reason to trust a stranger. However he did it, it needed to be done soon. Alex didn't yet know that her control over him was less absolute than it had been. Oh sure, she could still torture him in retribution for any betrayal, but Naomi was safe now. Her obituary was another bit of information that he had managed to screen from Alex. With only his life to consider he could not justify allowing Alex to go through with her current plans. Everything centered in Cascade, Washington.

She wanted to heist some canisters of nerve agent there. Blair had no doubts that both Alex, and the buyer, would have no hesitation about using the stuff on John and Jane Q Public. Even if Naomi hadn't died he would have been hard put to justify protecting her in light of the deadly danger posed by Alex's plans. Now there was no need. It was a hell of a thing when your own mother's death meant freedom rather than sorrow. He couldn't find the grief inside himself, and that was probably for the best.

She came up behind him and his heart rate picked up, responding to her presence. Her hands came to rest on his shoulders and then slid gently up around his neck. The touch was soft, even erotic, but the subtle threat was always there.

"How goes your research Pet?"

"Going, going. The security plans for the Oberon facility and the shipping schedules for the laser are already printed up, along with the security arrangements, and dossiers on the personnel involved in their security arrangements. They are printed up and tabbed in the blue binder. The red binder has the dossiers on the local talent we might need, along with rental properties, equipment rentals and price lists."

"Right now I'm cruising through the personnel files at the Cascade PD. Looking at who's going to be chasing us when the shit hits the fan."

"You do good work Pet, but come to bed now." She took a deep breath, excited by the scent of his pheromones and reassured by his fear. "You can finish in the morning, after I finish with you." A predator’s smile curled across her lips and he shivered.

He shut down the laptop as she ran her fingers through his short curly hair. When he snapped the lid closed, she slid her finger though the loop of the bright, silver-plated choke collar that circled his neck. Then he followed as she drew him away to her room.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Jim Ellison stood before his mirror and reached to wipe the grey mist off its surface. His eyes were already searching for the face that would appear in it at the first swipe of the towel. The condensation on the mirror seemed to glow with light and he looked a little more closely. Rainbows arced off of the misted mirror suddenly each little bead of water was a separate entity fascinating to watch....

Detective Ellison strode into the bullpen going straight to his desk. His brisk stride and closed expression discouraged all casual comment and hid the gnawing fear that ate at his confidence. He had lost twenty minutes this morning. He would lose it all soon, his job, his life, or maybe someone else’s. He had to have answers, and soon, or he would be left with nothing.

He sat down at his desk, flipped on his computer and signed on while pulling his first case file from the bottom drawer of his desk, three messages. He recognized the return address and subjects on two of them so he checked them first. One was a file sent from LA on the Dominguez bust with some corroborating information on an alibi. The next was a request for a meet from a snitch, Jesus, next thing you know even the dealers will all have their own web pages. The third piece of mail with no subject was - riveting.

It was from a Hotmail account under the name IQ2HI. It read, Are you experiencing sensory impressions that you think are impossible? Missing time? Headaches? I know what is happening to you. Meet me in the basement of the the university library 4:00pm. He stared at the message with intense concentration. He could feel himself focusing on the words, the letters, the pixels....

"Ellison," Jim's world started again as the yell from Simon's office assaulted his ears, "come in here, bring the Silverman case with you." Shit. He grabbed the appropriate file and headed to Simon's office.

"Detective, Mr. Silverman has filed a complaint against you. He claims that you have been harassing him. He has also informed us that he will file a suit for slander if you don't back off."

The muscles in Ellison's jaw clenched and twitched with his efforts at restraining himself. "Captain, you know he's guilty, if I could just push him a little harder..."

"That is precisely what you will not do, detective. You will investigate the other leads. You're a good cop, but in this case you have no evidence, and without evidence you have no case."

"God Damn it. " Jim growled, his face dissolving into a snarl, "The motherfucker ripped off his own store. He killed that clerk because she was a witness. His alibi is crap, he's lying through his fucking teeth." His hands unconsciously clenched, twisting the file he was holding, wringing it like a neck.

Damn it. Captain Banks thought as he watched one of the best detectives he had come unglued. Ellison had always been difficult to work with. He was a loner, and strung a little tight, but in the last week he had been coming unwound. The stiff control he maintained over his emotions was slipping. Banks sighed and asked, "Detective, do you have any proof, solid or not, that he is lying?"

"No captain, but I know that he is." Intense blue eyes lasered into his captain's brown ones, conveying his absolute conviction.

"Detective," his large frame heaved with a sigh, "you are one of the best I have, and I do trust your instincts. But the system doesn't work that way, and you know that. You have got to get a grip on yourself. It's not just this case. You have been on the verge of an explosion for the last week. I've been reviewing your file detective; you haven't taken a vacation since before that Switchman case three years ago. I'm serious as a heart attack here, as of now, you are on two weeks’ worth of vacation or I will pull your badge. I am also scheduling you some counseling with the department shrink." He looked into Ellison's darkening face allowing his concern to show. “I don’t want to lose you detective, but in this state you are a danger to everyone around you. Go home, sleep in, unwind, and get your head together."

"Yes, sir." Ellison answered tightly, pivoted, and headed for the door. The veneer of control spoiled when his fist slammed into the doorframe on his way out.

Blair browsed through the stacks in the library considered his arrangements and looked for flaws in his planning of this meet. His eyes narrowed as he considered a book, pulled it off of the shelf and added it to his stack. If Alex had any clue of his plans he was so very dead. The evidence of the Hotmail account was erased from his computer. He had been very careful about his access of Ellison's records. Very casual. Just one cop among many.

He analyzed his behavior around Alex for the last few weeks. It had been business as usual, enough fear to assure her of her control and dominance. He snorted softly; the fear was easy enough anyway. He glanced at his watch - 3:30- Better hurry now, almost show time.

He hurried to a restroom he had found up on the second floor. An older one, it was just a room with a toilet, a sink and a door that locked. Blair went in and laid the bag he was carrying on the floor. He undressed, pulled a change of clothes out of the bag and stored the set he would wear back to the farmhouse inside of it. No Eau de Ellison to take back. He did a quick inventory; he had the white noise generator with him, just in case. The books of Sentinel myth, for Alex they were his alibi for being here and for Ellison his proof that he wasn't a crackpot. All bases covered.

Blair regarded his face in the mirror, the short curls and the neat goatee that Alex had mandated. This was who he had been for the last three years; hacker, thief, and slave. It was hard to remember what his younger face had been like, what he had been like. Even if this succeeded he could never get that back again. And if he failed... Blair felt his heart begin to pound at the thought, he clamped down on the incipient panic attack with ruthless self-discipline. Now is not the time. He glanced down at his watch- 3:46- and headed down to the basement.

His head snapped up suddenly as Ellison stepped through the door. He pasted an eager expression on he face, "Detective Ellison?" Showtime. Blair's heart sank as he watched Ellison's eyes narrow suspiciously at him. This was not going to be easy, Forward momentum.

"Yes."

"Great, you showed. All I need to do is some quick diagnostics, just about a half-hour of your time, and I'll be able to tell you for sure what I think is going on with you. I did my Masters thesis on heightened senses, and although usually the people I study only have one or two heighten senses, people with all five were reported by Richard Burton, the explorer not the actor, on his travels through Peru in the 1600's...

Jesus, is this kid on amphetamines? Does he breathe at all? "What kind of bullshit story is this?"

Blair's line of patter dried up for a moment as he gazed at the man still standing by the door, and thought a no bullshit kind of guy. Then he answered simply, "It's my area of study, people whose senses are acute beyond the norm. If my source was accurate about your symptoms, then what you have been experiencing recently is the onset of hypersensitivity. Burton called people like you sentinels. I've pulled some reference texts if you want to look at them later and verify what I tell you here. But for now if you'll just sit down here, I can run you through a few quick tests."

"What kind of tests?" Softening a little.

"Really quick and painless."

Jim walked into the room and sat in the chair across from the student. An odd look crossed his face, as if he had been caught out, "First what is your name and how did you find me?"

"I'm Pet Barnes, and a friend who does some work for the hospital told me about you. May we start?"

The cop looked at him with considering eyes. "Okay, start your test."

"This is the first test." The man across from him spoke in a smooth calm voice, "Tell me everything that you can hear down to the least insignificant sound."

Detective Ellison closed his eyes, a little tense and wary, and began to listen. "I hear the buzz of fluorescent lights, your breathing, someone just dropped a book. That's it."

"Okay, keep your eyes shut. I want you to picture a dial in your mind. Like a volume control on a stereo, it's labeled from 1 to 10. Do you have it?"

"Yes."

"Right now it is on three, I would like you to turn it up; first to four, then to six, slowly. What do you hear now?"

Ellison's brows bunched in concentration, "Footsteps above us, the computer at the checkout desk beeping. The central heating system, I hear some thudding sounds?"

"Describe them please."

"One here, some beyond the door. They sound like- Thud-thud, Thud-thud, Thud-thud" No, thought Ellison falling into the sound, those can't be heartbeats.

The next sound he became aware of was a voice telling him to "Look at me, detective, come back now", and a touch on his hand.

"Shit", exclaimed the detective "What the hell was that!"

"That was the first test." Answered the young man in a solemn tone. "You passed, but you focused too tightly on what you were hearing, so you zoned. It's one of the down sides to being a Sentinel, but with some training you can almost completely avoid it. Are you ready for the second test?"

 

"Yes" Said Ellison. He felt for the first time since this insanity had started that it might be manageable. Like this might not destroy his career and his life.

"Take a deep breath, let it out slowly, close your eyes, and tell me everything you smell."

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

All told it took about an hour to go through all his senses. Jim rubbed his forehead trying to fight off the tension headache that was beginning to bloom. Barnes looked at him with a serious expression and said, "You detective Ellison are a Sentinel, a man with five enhanced senses. It has its benefits and its drawbacks. The most important thing you need to do is find someone to help you train to use them, so you can avoid zoning."

"What about you? You're the self-proclaimed expert." Jim questioned in irritation. He felt the headache strap across his brow a little more tightly.

Barnes gazed at him with sad blue eyes and said, "I wish I could man, but Sentinels are territorial creatures, and I'm already a Guide. Alex would view even as little as I have done for you as a betrayal," he slid a key with a bright orange cap, stamped with a number, across to Ellison, "and this as pure treason."

Jim watched Pet's throat move as he swallowed, and saw his complexion pale out a little. "It's to a locker, over at the sports complex. There are two binders in there. The green one has all the basic info on the care and guiding of a sentinel. Also some training exercises to help your control. Don’t do them alone.” He paused and took a shaky breath. “The red one, that binder has some other information you will need. Look at it tonight. I have to go now, before I’m missed.” He rose out of his seat as he spoke and moved to the door. “Good luck, Detective”, and left. Detective Ellison watched him go, thoughtfully fingering the chunky orange key.

Captain Simon Banks came to a dead halt in the doorway of the Major Crimes Bullpen, took a deep calming breath and bellowed, "Ellison, my office, now." Detective Ellison snagged the red binder and a brief case from his desk and followed his captain into the office. "Did I, or did I not send you on vacation yesterday? You had better have a damned good reason for being here!"

"Captain," he said, handing the red binder across the desk, "you really need to see this. I got it from an informant yesterday afternoon."

"What is this informant’s name, and how reliable is he?" The captain opened the binder and his face grew hard as he looked over the contents. "Detective," he asked looking up, "tell me why this man isn't in custody?"

"He told me that his name was Pet Barnes. I met with him to discuss some problems I have been having, at the end of our meeting he gave me a key to one of those rental lockers at the campus sportsplex. I didn't know what was in it until I read through it last night. So far the information that I can track down has checked out, I think that we have to treat this as a reliable tip. The only problem is that there is too much information here. We know that this Alex Barnes is after the nerve agent but this is just all the raw information she would use to plan the heist, not the plan itself. I don’t think he was trusted with that.”

"We have to find this guy and bring him in. I want an APB out on him. We need to notify the Commissioner, alert military, and hell, SWAT."

"We can't put out the APB, and we can't notify anyone through normal channels. Look under the section on communications" Jim snorted in bemusement at the detail and organization of this 'tip', "You will see that they are monitoring our communications and they have a tap into communications with the facility at Rainier. The APB would only serve as a warning flare To Ms. Barnes and any internal memos circulated inside the facility could tip our hand. If you go to the next page, however, it details where they are staying and their security arrangements.

"The address in the binder, 5798 Spruce Rd, has been rented by one Alicia Bannister. She took the place for a month and paid the deposit in cash. It's a farmhouse at the edge of the city, with no near neighbors. If we can get into position without alerting them, we should be able to nail them, no problem."

Captain Banks assessed his officer; there was something different about him today, as if the tension had been drained from him in some way. "What did you meet with this guy to talk about in the first place Jim?" He used the first name in an attempt to dispel the barriers that rank so often imposed.

Jim looked at Simon and sighed. "I know that you need to know this to even attempt to take Alex Barnes sir, but it is fairly unbelievable so bear with me. I've been having some trouble lately with headaches, and my eyes would become sensitive or focus on things impossibly far away. It was the same with all my senses and I thought I was going nuts." He gave a tired snort and ran his hand across his blond buzz cut. "I was going to tell you this. I made an appointment with a doctor to try to find out what was wrong. It's actually scheduled for the day after tomorrow. Barnes told me he got the information about me from a friend who works in the hospital; I think it's more likely that he hacked into the hospital's patient records. Anyway, he sent me an e-mail with my symptoms and told me he had the answers," he looked up slightly to meet Simon's worried gaze, "and he did Simon. He called me a Sentinel. Some people get extra sensitive eyes, or a really good sense of smell, or taste, I've got them all. According to him, the intensity and amount of the input is what is causing my problems.

"And you bought that? Do you realize how crazy that sounds Jim? Like you think you are some kind of superhero?"

Simon watched Ellison pull a second binder from out of his briefcase and took it as he passed it over to him. This one was more than twice as thick as the first one by a good three inches. "His research was very convincing, he ran some tests and they cinched it for me. Simon, I could hear his heartbeat."

Simon shook his head in consternation, "Why do I need to know this? Why are you telling me this when you know that I can't overlook it? That I'm going to have to pull your badge and send you in for a psych evaluation?"

 

"Because Alex Barnes is a Sentinel too. She also has these abilities and three years of training behind her. You need to believe this." Jim said leaning forward, willing Simon to believe him. "You need to understand how acute her senses are, if we don't move in very carefully she will hear, or see, or even smell us coming. I'm not asking you to take my word for this Simon. The tests and how to run them are detailed in the binder. Test me Simon, I can prove it."

"According to the time table in the red binder we have three days until they make the hit. We will spend today planning the apprehension, tonight we go to your apartment and run these tests. Tomorrow night we take Barnes." Simon looked Ellison square in the eyes, "If you can't prove this thing I'll have to pull your badge pending a psych eval."

"Understood sir." Jim rose from his seat and left the office, headed for his desk. He had an op order to plan.

Alex arched in pleasure, like a cat, under her guide's talented hands. She smiled a little smile. She knew that he hated this job, hated her, but he was hers. Thoroughly marked and cowed, she expanded her senses to take him in; the beating of his heart, the smell of his sweat, the tension in his hands, and with the flick of her tongue, the taste of him, and frowned. There was something...not quite right. With a swift twisting move, a low growl rumbling in her throat, she flipped him under her. His heart rate shot up and he yelped in pain as she wrenched his arm up between his shoulder blades. She licked his neck and was driven to fury by something.... Fingers turned into claws that sank deeply into his flesh, her teeth were bared in an angry snarl "Who do you belong to", she demanded? She jerked his arm higher, straining the ligaments of his shoulder.

"You Alex," he gasped "I belong to you, I'm yours." No thought of Ellison or his betrayal crossed his mind to interfere with the honesty of his answer. In this moment of his life, he was totally hers.

Alex relaxed a little, slightly mollified. Pet was HERS. Her Guide. She eased the tension on his arm somewhat, passionately kissing the back of his neck bent on re-enforcing her ownership. Afterward, lying curled around his sweat soaked body; her eyes stared alertly out of the window and into the darkness beyond.

Simon sat on the couch in Ellison's stark almost barren loft, and shook his head in amazement. "I need a beer, I don't know if I can believe this."

Jim bringing the beer from the kitchen said, "You ran the tests, what's not to believe? The important thing is to get a handle on this thing and at the same time keep a lid on it."

"Ellison, I don't think I can let you into the field until you do get a handle on this. That zoning thing is scary. It took me ten minutes to pull you out of it. That could get you or someone else killed."

 

"Pet Barnes pulled me out of it in under a minute, and he said with training and the right partner, it almost completely disappears." Jim chewed over that idea thoughtfully. "We need to get a hold of him. I've already got forensics checking the other binder."

”What about this binder, as much as you don't want to admit it, this is evidence too. The prints you need might be on it, if not on the red one."

"Simon, no one else is going to see this binder. When I was in Covert Ops I saw a lot of nasty stuff, I have no intention of ending my days as a government lab rat somewhere."

"What are you saying?" Simon’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing.

"What I'm saying," responded Jim calmly, "is that you are naive if you think our government doesn't have places like that." He shook his head, "No, if I want to stay a cop, I need Pet Barnes."

"Jim, you know that I'll do everything that I can for you, but I have to be honest, I'm not sure that I see a happy ending here. Even if we catch them, most likely Barnes is going to be serving some hard time. And you," Simon rubbed the bridge of his nose trying to dispel a little of the tension that was trying to turn into a headache, "Jim, you know that I can't let you out on the streets until you have some kind of control. This zoning thing is too dangerous, for you and for the officers around you. So you're on desk duty until further notice, you can work your cases but you handle no hot calls. We'll keep working through this - Sentinel Training Manual, and see what happens."

Jim sighed deeply, jaw twitching a little but he gave the only answer there was to give to the man in front of him, "Okay Captain. If that's the only way you can handle it."

Captain Banks glanced at the heavy gold watch on his wrist and, startled, looked again. "Shoot, look I've got to get home and get some sleep." He looked at his detective, "Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah, sir," He met his captain's eyes, an unhappy look planted firmly on his face. "I think I'll sleep better tonight, now that I know what's going on."

Captain Banks gave a quick uncomfortable nod, feeling awkward now as he moved in the direction of the door. "Well then I'll be going. Goodnight."

Jim sat down on the couch and thought about his life. No matter what his captain said, he knew that he needed more than the lessons in the binder on his coffee table, he needed a guide. He needed Pet Barnes. He knew the perfect time to get him

James Ellison slipped through the underbrush silently avoiding any contact with the officers stationed along the outskirts of the farmhouse's property. Simon would have his badge if he were caught here now. But he felt safe. The moonless dark that was so thick to others was no worse than twilight to his sight. His keen nose and sensitive ears infallibly told him when another officer was near. His covert ops training and his time in Peru had taught him to move as silently as a ghost through the light underbrush. He had no fears of being detected.

The greater part of his attention however was focused on the house. He had learned the scent, sound, and sight of Pet Barnes in the basement of Rainer's library, and these were what he searched for as he slithered unseen through the police lines surrounding the house.

He stayed down wind of the house, the better to sniff out the guide, and avoid Alex's detection. Her nose was just as keen as his and she was better trained. He was almost sure that she must know the police were out here. If she didn’t know yet, then she soon would. She would make a break for it and he would intercept her beyond the police lines. He wanted no interference. Once he defeated her, the Guide would be his. His life and his sanity would no longer be at risk; the payoff was worth the price of getting caught.

As he understood things the risk of zoning now was slim. His eyes were working through the darkness; his ears were straining for faint sounds of movement; and his nose was searching for human scents. At night, using so many of his senses together the chances of focusing on just one were much less likely.

Alex sat in the living room putting the finishing touches on her plans for tomorrow’s heist. Soon they would be back in sunny South America. She couldn’t wait, this place was raising her hackles big time and she couldn’t find a reason for it. Raising her eyes from the printout in front of her, she rolled her head trying to ease the stiffness from her neck, and took a deep breath. The scent of men and guns came through the opened window and hit her like a slap in the face. Alex snarled as she skittered around the doorway, hit the floor and crawled across the room to her emergency stash: guns, money, flashlight, ammo, and identities.

They were here. Fuck, how could they be here? The robbery at Oberon had gone off without a hitch. No one even knew the updated security plans for the Rainier Hazmat facility had been boosted. She had taken the Laser cutter this morning. That hijacking was high profile, but how did they find me so fast? "Pet," she yelled, "get in here now."

In moments he came cautiously through the kitchen door, "Yes Alex?"

"We're hot. Get down to the basement now."

In the basement she strode quickly to a footstool and moved it under a small ground level window, conveniently hidden behind the ancient poorly trimmed shrubbery that flanked the house. The window opened smoothly on well-oiled hinges. She handed him the emergency bag, "Okay Pet, out you go."

He went through the window with Alex right on his heels. Together they slid away through the darkness, silently across the police perimeter, and into the wooded area that the forest had reclaimed. They were heading down wind to the vehicle Alex had hidden half a mile away.

Beyond police lines Blair moved ahead of Alex and pulled the small Maglite from the kit. He heard her mumbling behind him, "How could they have found us so fast." He tensed then felt more than saw her head whip up, her narrowing gaze fell on him. "You", she hissed, and lunged for him in a murderous rage.

 

He ran, fear giving him wings through the dark, his light just bright enough to keep him on the path. With the instincts of the hunted he fled downwind. He could feel her gaining on him. Panic was climbing up his throat, turning his guts to water. He was going to die. His plan to deliver her to the cops had failed.

She saw him round a curve and snarled, only a few more yards and she would have him. Alex was so intent on her prey that she was blinded to all else. She never saw the fist fly out at her from Ellison's hide site beside the trail. The fist and her own momentum sent her flying into one of the large pines flanking the trail.

Ellison moved in for the kill, but the startled guide had swung around and his light caught Ellison directly across the eyes, causing him to bellow in pain. He fell to his knees, his arm flung up to protect his burning eyes.

Alex, recovering from her fall, moved in for an attack. She screamed her hatred at this other who had subverted her guide. ”KILL”, was the only thought in her mind. The enemy sentinel was her only focus. In that moment of concentration her guide betrayed her utterly. Screwing his courage and resolve to the sticking point, he stepped behind Alex. Holding the small Maglite as if it were a dagger he smashed the butt of it into the base of her skull.

It was one of those rare moments in life where physical action perfectly matched intent. The Maglite, swung with all his desperation, shattered the Alex's skull driving dagger sharp fragments of bone into the base of her brain. She dropped bonelessly, gone forever.

He stood there shaking for a moment. Then the Maglite dropped from nerveless fingers and he fell to his knees, sick gorge rising in the back of his throat. He had killed her. She was gone, his tormentor, his Mistress... his Sentinel.

"Freeze!" The shout pulled Ellison back into full alert. "JESUS! Ellison!?"

Jim took a shaky breath and assessed the situation at a glance. His head felt like it was clearing from some inexplicable fog. "I'm not moving Rafe." He answered dryly. "She isn't going to go anywhere except to the morgue." His eyes rested on Pet, crouched and shivering over Alex's body "And him..." Jim shook his head, trying to follow the insane tangle of emotions that had brought him to this point. The urge to protect Pet even from Rafe pushed at him, but he smashed it down under the weight of professional discipline. "Read him his rights and treat him for shock."

Simon and Ellison sat in the interrogation box with the prisoner, Pet Barnes.

Looking at the file in front of him, Simon asked, "In booking you gave your name as Blair Jacob Sandburg, is that your actual name"?

"Yeah, she took that away when she took me." He shook his head softly, "She left that other poor bastard in my place. Well", sighed the young man looking up at Ellison, "I guess it's all over. I'm yours now. What do you want me to do?"

"What do you mean you're mine!?"

"You won, I'm your guide now," Jim watched in disbelief, "until death do us part."

A snarl curled his lip and he spat, "All I need from you is to teach me control, then you are gone."

His rage was met with a solemn gaze from blue eyes darker than his own. "It doesn't work like that. If it did I would be dead. Alex was a sociopath; she would have killed me after the first year, after she mastered the basics of control."

Against his will, Jim found himself focusing in on, and calmed by Barnes', no SANDBURG’S soft voice. "A Sentinel needs their Guide like everyone else needs REM stage sleep. You absorb too much information in the course of the day to process it all. Without a Guide's help you begin to show signs very similar to sleep deprivation. It begins with irritability and mood swings and then progresses on through stages of paranoia and dementia. You need me."

Jim's fixed attention broke as Simon's voice cut across the Guide's, "And just how will you guide him from behind bars, Mr. Sandburg?"

"I have a lot to give. I’m sure that I can make some sort of deal. I know where a lot of bodies, both figurative and literal, are buried. Your DA and probably the Feds too, are going to love me. I have evidence in lock boxes, with lawyers, and stored hidden behind web pages all over the net." He looked at Simon with considering eyes, "For example, the contractor for this job was Carlos Arguilo of Sierra Verde..."

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Well this one is done. Or at least as done as I can conceive it. If anyone wants to build on it or strip it down for parts you are very welcome.


End file.
